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Victorian walking skirt

A woman spinning to make her skirt twirl. The skirt is light beige and she is wearing an embroidered jacket in the same colour. There is snow on the ground.

Sometimes you just need to make something, have had the making of it sizzling in your hands. This happened when I watched Bernadette Banner’s tasteful video about making a modern length Victorian walking skirt. Spoiler alert: Apart from an occasional skirt twirl, there is no spinning in this post.

A couple of years ago I stumbled upon a video by Bernadette Banner, a costume designer with a huge YouTube account where she documents the exploration, reconstruction and reinterpretation of fashion history. In the video she explores how she can create an Edwardian walking skirt in a contemporary length. For some reason I was totally fascinated by the project. I do have a soft spot for the late 19th century fashion, and I realized I needed to make a skirt for myself.

The ensemble

I am very happy with the result and astounded that it all went so well. It must be because of all the hand stitching. In the pictures I am wearing the skirt with a linen shift underneath, from the Berta’s flax guild. I don’t think it is visible, but it does a lot for the presentation of the skirt. I bought the bloomers a couple of weeks ago at a textile sale after the death of a textile antiquarian and reenactor.

A woman twirling in the snow. She is wearing a light beige skirt, flat on the front and gathered at the back, and a fitted jacket with embroidered knitted sleeves.
A woman twirling in the snow. She is wearing a light beige skirt, flat on the front and gathered at the back, and a fitted jacket with embroidered knitted sleeves.
A woman twirling in the snow. She is wearing a light beige skirt, flat on the front and gathered at the back, and a fitted jacket with embroidered knitted sleeves.
Flat front and gathered back for a silhouette typical for the Victorian era.

The jacket is my creation, including spindle spinning, two-end knitting and embroidery of the sleeves, weaving the bands and hand sewing the bodice. And some machine sewing. The blouse on the indoor pictures once belonged to one of my Austrian great-grandmothers and should be contemporary with the skirt model.

The model

Bernadette refers In her video to a pattern from Truly Victorian, and that’s the pattern I bought too. I did browse through the description, but for the most part I followed Bernadette’s clever guidance in the video.

A black and white picture of a woman sitting in a chair. She is wearing a light skirt and a blouse with lace and frills.
A black and white picture of a woman leaning on in a chair. She is wearing a light skirt and a blouse with lace and frills. A pair of white bloomers are visible underneath the skirt.
A black and white picture of a woman sitting in a chair. She is wearing a light skirt and a blouse with lace and frills. She is inspecting the lining of the skirt, with printed roses.
The Victorian walking skirt in a modern length is finished! With pockets and rose lining. The blouse once belonged to one of my Austrian great- grandmothers and should be contemporary with the skirt model.

The skirt has seven gores, a simple waistband and a 20 centimeter [8 inch] stiffener panel at the bottom of the skirt. Bernadette has shortened the ankle length original model to about 60 centimeters [24 inches] from the waist, and added the stiffener at the new length. I chose a similar length for my skirt. Like Bernadette, I also added side pockets. The fitting is flat at the front and sides and gathered at the center back, giving the skirt a bell shape.

Fabrics

My main fabric was a wool/linen fishbone twill from an Austrian weaving mill, available for the members of the Berta’s flax guild. Earlier this winter I finished a pair of trousers using the same fabric. I bought a linen/cotton fabric with printed pink roses on Swedish eBay for the lining. I am a firm believer in roses for any lining. For the stiffener I used an antique coarse linen fabric, also from Berta’s flax guild. And oh, a diagonally striped scrap fabric for pockets.

Two fabrics and a pattern – One natural linen colour with pink rose prints, one fishbone twill in the same natural linen colour. The pattern shows two skirts and the title 1898 Walking Skirt.
A wool/linen fishbone twill for the main fabric and a linen/cotton rose print for the lining of the Victorian walking skirt.

The wool/linen fabric is drapey and heavy, as is the antique linen fabric I used as a stiffener at the bottom of the skirt. All in all the skirt weighs one kilo.

Basting

The skirt is flatlined, meaning that the main fabric and the lining are sewn together for every gore, as opposed to a lined fabric which is made up of two separate garments – one in the main fabric and one in the lining – and then sewn together at the edges. Apparently this technique was common in the Victorian era.

To succeed with flatlining without creases or bubbles, I basted every main fabric and lining counterpart together. This of course took time, but made the result so much neater and the process so much more relaxed than with a million pins. An I enjoyed sitting on the floor with the gores spread like sunrays around me, basting my little heart out. Once all the pieces were basted – main fabric gores with the lining, and the stiffener with more lining, I assembled them with my sewing machine, a 1965 Husqvarna 2000, way younger than the skirt model.

Pressing

You may have heard this a thousand times, and so have I: Be sure to press your seams neatly. This time I did. I knew from when I sewed the pants in the same fabric that it is a bit mischievous, so I pressed the flatlined seams thoroughly with a towel and steam. And it did the trick. It really is such a simple technique, but often neglected.

Trimming and hand felling

Every seam was now four fabrics thick, which is not ideal. I can’t change that, but I can ease the bulk by trimming the seam allowances. For the gores I trimmed the lining to be able to hand fell the seam allowance of the main fabric over and around it. Seven times. I didn’t bother hand felling anything that would eventually be hidden by the stiffener, though.

Close-up of a person sewing by hand.
Close-up of a person sewing by hand.
The antique linen stiffener is trimmed underneath the rose linin (left)g, that I am hand felling onto the gore lining (right).

The gathering at the back was a bit fiddly with the flatlined fabrics, but not much more than it would be with a single fabric. It looked a bit meager at first, but when I put the skirt on it was just right. I sewed the waistband onto the wrong side with the sewing machine and hand felled it on the right side.

When I sewed the skirt together with the stiffener at the bottom I trimmed the lining on the skirt part and the stiffener on the panel part. A thorough pressing and presto, a neat bottom seam. The final touch was the hand felling of the top of the stiffener panels.

Needle in hand

With the hand felling no seams and no raw edges are visible on either the right or the wrong side of the skirt. Oh, the satisfaction! And I quite enjoyed the hand stitching. A natural colour linen thread that I waxed, an antique silver thimble (from 1885, so contemporary-ish with the dress model) and a cushion on the floor and I was stitching away across the roses, happy as a clam.

Close-up of a person sewing by hand. A silver thimble is visible on her left middle finger. She is wearing a natural white cabled wool sweater.
I’m hand felling the panel lining onto the gore lining. To the left you can see the hand felled seam allowances of the gores.

Another sweet thing about hand stitching is the time it gives me to plan ahead. With a machine seam, anything can go remarkably wrong in a second – a fly sewn onto a trouser leg or a piece sewn back to front. I actually did sew the back pieces of the skirt panels the wrong way (one the machine), but with the tendency of the main fabric to fray I didn’t’ t want to risk ripping the seam, so I kept it that way (and attached the stiffener panels the wrong way too to match). But when I sewed by hand, the slow speed gives me the time to see and plan ahead. Many times I didn’t even have to pin the seam allowances, I could just fold them as I went. There will be more hand sewing!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write weekly posts, mainly about spinning. Do subscribe!
  • I share essay-style writing on Substack. Come and have a look!
  • I am writing a book! In the later half of 2025 Listen to the wool: A why-to guide for joyful spinning will be available. Read more about the book here.
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to miss anything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden or to book me for a lecture.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons are an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
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All the projects

Today I show you all the projects I have going on at the same time, perhaps as a way to get away for a second from stress at work and a world that isn’t always kind.

I cleaned out my bags and baskets of unfinished when I was putting together the last pieces of the manuscript for my book back in September. There was too much clutter in my mind. Once I had sent the manuscript to my editor I had time to craft, time that I had spent on writing for the past year, time I hadn’t allowed myself to craft anything other than words. Now I got that time back, a wave of projects came to me, many of which had lived in my mind for a while, projects I knew I wanted to explore. Techniques, designs or ideas that I needed to have gone through my mind.

Spedetröja/Danish night sweater

The spedetröja or Danish night sweater, a traditional sweater in Denmark and the southernmost regions of Sweden. A simple construction with patterns in panels and a knit and purl star pattern as the main event. I knit it in a handspun Svärdsjö yarn and I loved the result. Quite time consuming with the 2.5 millimeter needles and 700 grams of handspun yarn, but a lovely knit.

Two natural white sleeves mid-knit, with two bals of yarn between them. The sleeves are made in a knit and purl star motif.

A muddy dye bath

My new project within that project was to dye it, with extractions from my homegrown Japanese indigo. I hadn’t made a vat before and it turned out to be difficult. I gathered the 8 grams of extracted Maruba indigo from my 2023 and 2024 harvests and played the chemist all over the bathroom. In all the stress of getting things right I managed to get some of the proportions wrong and the many times dipped sweater stayed undyed, with perhaps a light tint of mud.

I shed a tear or two but reminded myself of my friend Cecilia’s kind words, “You can always overdye it”. And I did. I got commercially grown indigo and set up a new vat, with the right proportions this time. I dipped and I dipped and there was no blue in sight. More tears were shed. Cecilia guided me into making a fermentation vat out of my mud bath and that’s where I am at the moment. The whole project makes me sad, but I stick to Cecilia’s wise words and knowledge.

Apart from the sweater I had prepared a piece of wool/linen twill from a small Austrian mill that I wanted to dye. My plan is to sew a bodice. But I don’t want to dip it in the vat until I know I can rely on it. Time will tell. As will the mud bath.

A contemporary Victorian walking skirt

The same bolt of wool/linen twill is the material for a Victorian walking skirt I stumbled upon about a year ago. I have sewn for many years, mainly clothes for myself, but stopped when my first child was born. I didn’t want to risk having pins on the floor. He’s almost 22 now and has his own apartment. He may still crawl around on our floor from time to time, but he and his sister, are big enough now to handle more complicated things than pins on the floor. As it happens, he is sitting right in front of me, sewing a laundry bag out of an old seat cover. And he is wise enough to baste. Anyway, I have found my way back to sewing lately and I’m enjoying it tremendously.

A Victorian walking skirt in a wool/linen twill (I honestly don’t know which side to use as the right side they’re both so beautiful), and a cotton/linen rose fabric as lining.

I cut the fabric for the walking skirt – in a contemporary length –feeling giddy of the idea of sewing it. Just the concept of something called a walking skirt from a time and a social tier when women weren’t supposed to walk for the sake of walking and the fashion didn’t allow a comfortable stride. A world about to change, giving the vote to women just a couple of decades later, women taking more independent steps into the world. Who wouldn’t want a walking skirt then? Also, the model is just smashing with the flat front and the gathered back. I eBayed a linen/cotton fabric with pink roses for the lining. I’m definitely not a rose person, but I firmly believe in scrumptious lining patterns, and so roses it is.

Trousers in Japanese

There was enough fabric for more projects, and I decided on a pair of trousers. The idea came quite recently – I had made two pairs of pants this summer from vintage handwoven Chinese fabrics and bought more for another two pairs, and when I saw the remaining fabric after I had cut the pieces for the skirt I knew a pair of trousers would be the thing. My mother sew lots of clothes for me when I was growing up, but never trousers. She was of the opinion that they were complicated to make and rarely had a comfortable fit. So I didn’t sew trousers either. I’m making up for that trouserless sewing experience now!

Close-up of a sewing machine outdoors, with a hand steering a blue fabric underneath the presser foot. A rosy fabric in the background.
Josefin on the floor cutting out fabric. A spinning wheel by the window in the background.
Some trouser sewing on the balcony in July (left), with rosy pocket lining. The sewing machine is my 1965 Husqvarna 2000, weighing about 17 kilos [37.5 pounds], and she works like a dream. To the right I’m cutting out fabric for another pair of trousers.

I had bought a book of a modular system for trouser designs – different styles, fits and details you could match to build your trousers according to your own preferences. A challenge no doubt, and one I was glad to take on. The biggest challenge, though, was that the book and the patterns are written in Japanese… Instead of letting that stop me I crawled around on the floor, chasing the right pieces for the pants on the three gigantic pattern sheets, with my Google Translate app as my saviour.

A sewing pattern written in Japanese with a phone showing the Google Translate app.
Why make sewing easy when you can cut the pattern from a book in a language and a writing system you don’t know?

And oh, I just had to start a sashiko mending project for a pair of much loved jeans. Despite an aching left thumb after pushing the needle through the denim so many times I did it in just a couple of days. It’s finished now and I’m very pleased with it.

A walking leg, dressed in jeans. There is a grid on the thigh, marking where the stitches go in an ongoing sashiko mending.
A jean leg on a clothes line. There is a sashiko stitch star motif sewn onto the thigh.
I needed my trousers mid-mending and went for a walk. Now they are finished and the help lines are gone.

There is spinning too, don’t you worry. I have started spinning a z-plied yarn for two-end (or twined) knitting and I really love the result. I have spent many hours on the floor teasing the wool with my mini combs before carding and spinning.

Rose brown 2-ply yarn.
A rose brown Värmland fleece has turned into a sweet Z-plied yarn for two-end (twined) knitting.

Happy spinning!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write weekly posts, mainly about spinning. Do subscribe!
  • I share essay-style writing on Substack. Come and have a look!
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to miss anything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden or to book me for a lecture.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons are an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • I am writing a book! In the later half of 2025 Listen to the wool: A why-to guide for mindful spinning will be available. Read more about the book here.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
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Embroidered tweed mittens

A few weeks ago I bought Lina Odell’s book “Broderade vantar” (Embroidered mittens) mainly for the scrumptious photography. I figured I would get lots of inspiration from the excellent folkcostume garment and Lina’s neverending creativity with traditional, modern and and take-what-you have, use what you want solutions. I was not disappointed and found myself making a pair of embroidered tweed mittens.

My original plan was to just look at the photos and be inspired by materials, designs and details. And while I was, I also wanted to make some of the mittens.

Embroidered mittens

In her book ”Broderade vantar”, Lina has studied old mittens from areas in Sweden with a rich folk costume heritage. Many of the saved or documented mittens are bridal mittens and part of a geographical folk costume tradition. Lina has interpreted old mittens and composed new designs inspired by details and techniques in regional folk costumes and offered as patterns in the book.

”Broderade vantar” (Embroidered mittens) by Lina Odell is a beautiful book with lots of patterns for embroidered mittens. I made the Kattis half-mitts.

The book is written in Swedish and although I hope it will be translated into English, I honestly think people who don’t read Swedish can understand the patterns. The images are clear and the templates straightforward. A while ago I actually bought a book with sewing patterns in Japanese. The many illustrations are very clear and with the Google Translate app I can easily translate the text into English.

Kattis half-mitts

I have no heritage from any area in Sweden with a folk costume tradition and I am not interested in making a folk costume for myself. I just want to investigate techniques and materials for my own pleasure and make things that work with a modern wardrobe.

Embroidered tweed mittens with cashmere details. The pocket comes from the same Harris Tweed jacket. You can see the difference between the fulled sleeves I used for the mittens and the original fabric in the pocket.

For my first project I chose the Kattis half-mitts. They are inspired by patterns typical for Dala-Floda in country Dalarna and sewn in dyed leather, but I chose other materials.

Tweed

I like to use material I already have, and my mind went to an eBayed Harris Tweed jacket I had butchered two years ago to sew a tie-on pocket (which you can also see in the image above). I had used the side pocket of the jacket for the opening of my tie-on pocket. Just to make it a little bit more interesting, I had cut it on the bias, placing the pocket at a diagonal. To make the most of the sleeves I used for my mittens, I cut the pieces for the mittens lengthwise. I giggled at the mischief of cutting the fabric in unconventional ways.

Cashmere

Ten years ago or so, my mother got a bright red cashmere sweater from my father. Her joy didn’t last long, though, since the sweater was washed too warm and shrunk to the size of my daughter’s who was then around 9. My mother gave it to her, but as the felted material was too dense and warm, she never wore it. It was stuffed into the back of her closet and later into my fabric cabinet.

Second-hand butchered and fulled Harris Tweed + accidentally felted cashmere + fleamarket silk thread = perfect mitten love. The cashmere is the end of the sleeves, including the cuff. The sweater cuffs are just folded over the tweed cuffs (and sewn in place over the thumb and finger openings). The tweed comes from the lengths of the jacket sleeves.

When I planned the mittens I realized the fabric would be perfect for the inner mittens. Originally I had planned to cut the fabric from the torso, but when I looked at the sleeves I realized how perfect it would be to use them, with the sleeve cuffs as mitten cuffs folded over the tweed as a design detail.

Embroidery

I like to hunt on Swedish eBay (Tradera) for old haberdashery boxes with needles and notions in it. I bought one a few years ago and still see it as my treasure box. A couple of weeks ago I noticed that my son, who recently moved to his own apartment, had saved the same eBay ad as I had – a haberdashery box with lots of needles, buttons and sewing silk. We decided to bid for the auction and share the content.. And so I have an assortment of silk thread, perfect for mitten embroidery. None of us wanted the box, though, it was hideous – although with a charming touch – and in plastic.

Old haberdashery boxes can reveal true gold. I mean, nylon mending thread, isn’t that to die for?

Embroidery with silk thread was a bit tricky, though, especially since I held the thread double. I had marked the pattern by basting it onto the mittens, which wasn’t the best choice. And hearts are really, really difficult to embroider! I don’t know why, but I struggled a lot with them.

Wonky

Lots of the details in this project are wonky. The hearts as I mentioned, but also seams and fit. The herringbone stitches over the thumb seams is not a pretty sight and there is a colour change in the chain stitch. But overall, it’s a beautiful pair of mittens, wonkiness included.

A colour change in a chain stitch.c
An embroidery with wonky hearts at the edges.
Colour changes and wonky hearts. Lilac and blue/teal are my handspun silk dyed with my homegrown fresh indigo leaves.

Lina writes about this in the introduction to the book – none of the old mittens she made her interpretations of were symmetrical or complete. All had their peculiarities like sudden changes of colours, assymetries, a missed mirroring in a pattern. She says that it is the wonkiness that shows the person behind the craft. The mittens are really just reflections of our own wonkiness. I embrace the beauty of both.

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write weekly posts, mainly about spinning. Do subscribe!
  • I share essay-style writing on Substack. Come and have a look!
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to miss anything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden or to book me for a lecture.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons are an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • I am writing a book! In the later half of 2025 Listen to the wool: A why-to guide for mindful spinning will be available. Read more about the book here.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
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Substack: Autumn stitches

I did some eco printing on a second-hand skirt this summer, using leaves I picked and pressed last autumn and the other week I played with stitching around the edges of the blurry prints of the backs of the leaves. Today I write about it on Substack: Autumn stitches is an essay where I explore leaves and prints through the running stitches, and find cyclic lives in the service of beauty.

Happy reading!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write weekly posts, mainly about spinning. Do subscribe!
  • I share essay-style writing on Substack. Come and have a look!
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to miss anything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden or to book me for a lecture.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons are an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • I am writing a book! In the later half of 2025 Listen to the wool: A why-to guide for mindful spinning will be available. Read more about the book here.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
Posted on

Sashiko pocket

Tie-on pockets are lovely projects for exploring new techniques without it taking forever to finish. I have made several pockets through the years in different techniques and materials. Today I have finished a sashiko pocket.

Making pockets is also a perfect opportunity to use scraps and material you already have. I have used a butchered tweed jacket, a couple of eBayed linen towels and a vintage evening clutch for some of mine.

Fabrics

I have had a sashiko pocket on my crafting list for a couple of years now. I found Chen, an Etsy seller in France who imports vintage handwoven fabrics from eastern China and I realized her fabrics would be perfect for my pocket. I had some scraps of her fabrics at home, and also ordered a sample pack of Indigo resist dyed fabrics.

I drew a shape for the pocket and arranged the fabrics until I was happy with shapes and composition.

Once I got the fabrics (Chen is super fast!), I had a hard time deciding what fabrics to use and how to arrange them. I wanted solid colour fabrics for the sashiko stitching and resist dyed for contrast—some for the pocket front and some to peek out above the pocket opening. I played a bit with shapes and patterns and landed in a combination I liked.

Sashiko stitching

The sashiko stitching was of course the main event of the pocket. I drew the grids and started the first thread and put it reluctantly aside. I wanted to bring it to the writing retreat I had coming up. It was hard, but I perservered.

Front and back ready to baste .

Hand sewing is deeply calming, helps me clear my head and open it for new ideas. As such it’s the perfect companion for writing. With the needle in one hand and the sturdy fabric in the other I stitched away in straight lines and geometrical patterns of endless interpretations. Vertical lines, wide and shallow angled figure-eights and finally horizontal lines. I still pull a bit, making the fabric pucker, but I’m learning.

Assembling

When I had woven in the final end I made a border between the sashiko and the resist dyed fabrics. I had woven a band from scraps of handspun yarn dyed with fresh Indigo leaves, which was the perfect candidate for the job. I even had some of the yarn left for the stitching.

Front and back of the finished pocket. I added some indigo leaf pounding to the back just for fun.

The other pockets I have made have been tie-on ones, menaing that the band was part of the straight top of the pocket. For this one I had bought a pocket hook. Therefore I wanted the top rounded. To make the shape sturdy I made a bias tape from scraps from a pair of pants I sew a couple of months ago.

A bias tape for the opening and the outer edge of the pocket.

Making your own bias tape is a lot of fun if you have sharp scissors and the discipline to draw straight and orderly lines. I added the band to the pocket opening and around the five layers—the front with a lining, the back with two.

A silk band and a hook and the pocket is done!

I stitched the hook at the top and a tassel at the bottom. I made the tassel a couple of weeks ago from thrums I found in a bag of finished projects. It was the perfect fit for a Japanese-style pocket!

The finished sashiko pocket fits perfectly with my handsewn pants. The pant fabric is from Indigoloom and the pattern is a traditional Chinese model.

Flaunting

The other morning the mist had draped itself over the lake and the morning swim was magical. When I got home I changed quickly and came back to the dock before the mist had disappeared entirely. Of course I paired the pocket with pants that I sew from Chen’s fabrics in a Chinese style pattern she provided me with. The fit was perfect and I giggled of joy at my mixed heritage pocket.

I love wearing my pockets, especially in the summer when I don’t wear a jacket. Even if most of my pants and skirts have pockets of their own, no garment is sturdy enough to house a smart phone without weighing down the garment.

Materials I used:

  • Handwoven vintage (1930–1970) cotton fabrics from China for front, inside, mini pocket and bias tape, from Indigoloom.
  • Remnants from antique cotton sheet for (double) back lining.
  • Indigo leaves for pounding on lining.
  • Band made from my handspun silk yarn, dyed with fresh indigo leaves.
  • Tassel made from thrums in handspun silk yarn, same as the band.
  • Pocket hook made by Emma Frost.
  • Sashiko thread, needles, thimble and stencils from Indigoloom.

Pocket collection

Five pockets and a belt bag, lovely projects where I have played with material I have and new techniques.

Here are my previous pockets, together with the new addition:

Happy spinning!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write weekly posts, mainly about spinning. Do subscribe!
  • I share essay-style writing on Substack. Come and have a look!
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to miss anything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden or to book me for a lecture.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons are an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • I am writing a book! In the later half of 2025 Listen to the wool: A why-to guide for mindful spinning will be available. Read more about the book here.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
Posted on

Knit sleeve jacket

It’s done. The knit sleeve jacket I have been working on since I started spinning the sleeve yarn four years ago. This is one of my biggest projects. It includes five different textile techniques, and I am glad to share it with you today. It’s really done.

It started with sweet locks of dalapäls wool and a dream of a knit sleeve jacket. This project has been with me for such a long time and I can’t believe it’s finished.

The making

Creating this knit sleeve jacket has been such a joy. I have had this project in my hands in one way or another on and off since 2019. The sleeves have been with me on many train rides and vacations. Lately also on coffe breaks and meetings at work.

In 2023 I have worked on the sleeves more focused and finished them, and since mid-April I have sewn and embroidered almost every evening. I have felt the soft and safe wool in my hands over and over again.

A five-technique project is finished and I am very proud of it.

Sometimes when I craft I watch a series or listen to an audiobook. But for this project, I have mostly just enjoyed being in the materials and in my hands, letting my thoughts come and go like the wool between my hands, the stitches from needle to needle, the thread up and down the cloth and my breath in and out.

The model

This jacket has elements that are traditional in the County of Dalarna. I am not from Dalarna, but I am intrigued by the techniques and the rich textile heritage of the area. The techniques are sometimes used together, but probably not the way I have put them together. So, while to an untrained eye (like mine) the jacket may look like something of a folk costume jacket, it is not. It is just the result of my exploration and celebration of various techniques and designs.

The lining is almost in place, just the front opening left to stitch.

Five textile techniques

So, in this project I have used five textile techniques:

  • I spun the yarn on a supported spindle. The wool comes from the longest locks of several dalapäls sheep.
  • I two-end knitted the sleeves with my spindle spun yarn
  • I bought the broadcloth and hand sewed the bodice with waxed linen thread (commercial). I ebayed the lining and machine sewed it together and hand stitched it onto the broadcloth
  • I wove the band with a commercial linen yarn
  • I embroidered the greenery with påsöm technique and commercial yarn.

I will walk you through the techniques and my journey with them.

Supported spindle spinning the yarn

I started this project in 2019, spinning the yarn from locks of dalapäls wool on a supported spindle. This has of course taken a lot of time, but I have loved every spinning second. Dalapäls wool is very shiny and has strong outercoat fibers and fine undercoat fibers.

I have spun the sleeve yarn on supported Björn Peck spindles from teased locks of dalapäls wool.

I opened up and lightly teased each staple and spun from the cut ends. This was to make sure I got both undercoat and outercoat fibers evenly in the yarn.

Since I wanted to two-end knit the sleeves I spun the yarn counter-clockwise and plied clockwise. This way the yarn looks its very best for this particular technique.

Two-end knitting the yarn

Tvåändsstickning, or two-end knitting is a technique that has an old history in Sweden, and particularly in Dalarna. The knitter alternates two yarn ends, usually the inner and outer ends from the same ball, and wrap them around each other at the back between the stitches. Tvåändsstickning means two-end knitting. A common translation is twined knitting. This translation came about since someone decided it was more commercially pleasing than two-end knitting. I prefer the latter.

From lock to sleeve through teasing, spinning, plying, skeining and hand winding a centerpull ball.

After some adventures with running out of yarn, finding a suitable substitute sheep, frogging and reknitting I finally knit up to the armholes this spring. In April this year Karin Kahnlund, master knitter with two-end knitting as her specialty, helped me calculate how to decrease for the sleeve caps. I knit the caps in the round and cut the steeks when I was happy. All of a sudden I was done! And very happy.

The finished sleeves. Right side out (top) and wrong side out (bottom). The twisted stitches create horizontal ridges on the wrong side, making the fabric very sturdy and wind proof.

The sleeves weigh approximately 250 grams each, without the embroideries. Here are some resources about spinning and knitting the sleeves:

Hand sewing the bodice

Karin Kahnlund also helped me find a pattern for the bodice, a model called Gertrud. This also happened to be from the County of Dalarna. I had been thinking about having a professional seamstress sew the bodice for me, but Karin cheered me on to do it myself. And I am glad I did, I got to spend some lovely time with high quality broadcloth and waxed linen thread in hand.

I made a tuile out of an old sheet and felt very grown up.

The bodice pattern is quite simple. Two back panels and one front panel with two vertical darts on each panel. The front opening is also shaping the garment. I made a tuile out of a sheet first to make sure the fit was right. The bottom hem was originally straight, but I added some shape to it.

Gertrud the bodice, in fine broadcloth.

Years ago I had an itch for ebayed textiles. In one Ebay raid I found a piece of printed cotton cloth that I immediately knew would serve as the lining for the bodice. However, the piece was too small, so I paired it up with a similar fabric from the same raid. I did machine sew it, but stitched it to the bodice by hand.

A woven band

You know when you get an itch to weave a linen band in candy store colours? Well, I did, and I happened to find colours that would perfectly match the jacket lining, in Kerstin Neumüller’s web shop. Initially I had planned to do something with the band on the lining, but as I saw one version of the bodice pattern with woven bands along the front openings, I knew that was where they should be.

A woven linen band in candystore colours, perfectly matching the ebayed cotton lining. Clasps from DiviniCouture. Right photo by Nora Waltin.

I wove the band on a backstrap loom, using just a bundle of hand carved sticks. Here is a blog post poem I wrote while weaving the band on a train ride back in February.

Påsöm embroidery

Påsöm is also a technique that is traditional in Dalarna. Bulky, almost paw print like flowers stitched with 4-ply, airy yarn in scrumptious colours. Who wouldn’t want that on their two-end knitted sleeves? As it turns out, the dense quality of two-end knitted fabric works perfectly for påsöm embroidery. A tradition in Dala-Floda, where the påsöm technique has been mostly used, is to stitch påsöm patterns on two-end knitted mittens. I decided to fill parts of my sleeves with the bombastic flower arrangements, with commercial yarn from Flodaros. I wouldn’t dream of spinning this yarn myself, let alone dye it.

The finished sleeves, Left underarm and right upper arm. To the right are some traditional two-end knitted sleeves. On some of them the pattern is larger the closer to the shoulder they get.

In some older knit sleeve jackets with knit patterns, the shapes are larger the higher up on the sleeves they are placed. I wanted to do something similar with my embroidery. On the right upper arm the top flower is larger than the middle and the bottom one and the arrangement also narrowes downward. On the left underarm the pansies are the same size, but the greenery gets larger towards the elbow.

You can read more about påsöm embroidery here. And here are some of my other påsöm projects: A hat, a pocket and a spindle case.

If you are a patron (or want to become one) you can see some of the påsöm embroidery on the sleeves in the May 2023 video postcard.

Embroidering on two-end knitting

Påsöm embroidery has been traditional on two-end knitted textiles. Because of the technique with the tight knitting, the twisting on the wrong side and the fine needles, the fabric is quite dense and inelastic. In this sense, it behaves more like woven fabric than knitted. I can stitch my embroidery without using an embroidery hoop and without running the risk of the sleeve getting bubbly or the embroidery pulled together.

Two-end knitting is a lovely textile to embroider on.

Still, it’s different than embroidering on broadcloth and it was a delight to get to know the cooperation between the påsöm embroidery and the two-end knitted material.

Wearing the knit sleeve jacket

As I put the jacket on I suddenly wear all those hours of making – spinning, knitting, sewing, weaving and embroidering. I know every nook and cranny of this jacket and I am proud of every corner of it, including the wonky stitches. Perhaps especially the wonky stitches. This jacket has been made with such love, dedication and curiosity.

The sweetest linen shift, from the Berta’s flax project (video screen shots).

The other day I picked up a parcel from my friend Christiane of the Berta’s flax project. She had sent me the most beautiful handspun, handwoven 120-ish year old shift that was just perfect to wear underneath the knit sleeve jacket. It was likely worn by an Austrian woman named Josefine.

Wearing this jacket is such a joy!

I had no idea of the finished result when I started spinning the yarn. All I knew was that I wanted to make a knit sleeve jacket. It’s here now and I love it.

The early summer light

There is a spot near our house that turns magic for around fifteen minutes every evening during just a couple of weeks in June. The evening sun shines through the trees onto the light green and fresh grass. The light is truly magic. It’s there for such a short time (provided the sky is clear), yet I giggle at the thought of the limits. I can’t get everything the way I want it. Nature decides, just as it should.

Greenery in the early summer light. Photo by Nora Waltin.

Yesterday I went to the spot for a photo shoot. I was back at the time and the spot where I, three years ago, shot a video of me spinning the yarn for the sleeves, catch the light. I brought my tripod and my daughter to the spot and shot a series of photos and a video with the finished jacket A special feeling indeed. Pop over to my Instagram account to see a reel from the photo session.

Happy spinning!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write posts about spinning, but also where I explain a bit more about videos I release. Sometimes I make videos that are on the blog only. Subscribe or make an rss feed to be sure not to miss any posts.
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to miss anything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons is an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. Shooting and editing a 3 minute video takes about 5 hours. Writing a blog post around 3. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
Posted on

Tweed pocket

I think it’s time for another tie-on pocket, don’t you? This time I let a men’s jacket in Harris tweed share his abundance of pockets for my tweed pocket visions.

I use the term tie-on pocket in this post to refer to the pocket I’m sewing, not to confuse it with the jacket pockets I’m using for it. Usually I just call the tie-on pocket a pocket, but that would be a bit challenging in this case.

My tweed pocket, made from a tweed pocket.

Diving deeper into the history and traditions of tie-on pockets I’m increasingly fascinated by how much we can learn from them. They can tell us a lot about gender inequality of history and present, but also about women’s empowerment in how they have used tie-on pockets.

Men’s pockets

I read The Pocket – a hidden history of women’s lives by Birgit Burman and Ariane Fennetaux that during the period on which the book focuses (1660–1900) men’s clothing was always equipped with several pockets for items that were considered important and significant to men – pockets for bottles, sandwiches, watches, coins and bank notes. Women’s clothing had no pockets at all, instead they had tie-on pockets. These could contain various objects – needles, herbs, handkerchiefs, coins, bread etc, and could be tied off, unloaded and changed several times a day should the bearer wish to.

A 1940’s army jacket with ten pockets. For men.

I came to think about the brilliant HBO series Gentleman Jack and the series adaptation of the life of Anne Lister, a 19th century lesbian woman who kept a journal in code. The diaries were eventually found but kept hidden to save them from destruction. Anne Lister was also an estate owner and colliery owner. She dressed entirely in black, which was normal for gentlemen at the time. In the series, all the dresses, jackets and waistcoats the character Anne Lister (played by Suranne Jones) wears have visible pockets, and lots of them.

While women’s garments do have pockets these days, it still doesn’t seem to be obvious. I usually mutter about skirts and pants with too small, too flimsy or too few pockets or no pockets at all. Count to that the increasing size and weight of smart phones, that can easily tilt trousers or tear ladies’ trouser pockets. I own a men’s wadmal jacket from the Swedish army, made in the 1940’s. It has ten very sturdy pockets.

A vision in tweed

Ever since I started making my first pocket I have been playing with the idea of a pocket in tweed, perfect for the autumn. I decided I wanted my pocket in Harris tweed. For a while I tried to find online stores in Sweden that would sell Harris tweed, but I couldn’t find any. I started looking at web shops in the U.K, but with shipping and import tax it would be quite pricy.

Some shops had fabric samples. Since I had abandoned the import idea I decided to go to the Scottish House in Stockholm, a shop specializing in Scottish clothes and fabrics. I asked for samples, but they didn’t have any. The shop keeper suggested I look for a tweed garment in thrift shops, which was a brilliant idea. That would give me the opportunity to use both the tweed fabric and details in the garment while at the same time upcycling a used item.

Meet Bernie

For a few months I monitored Swedish eBay for tweed vests and jackets, and in August I found what I was looking for – a large brown vintage herringbone men’s jacket in Harris tweed, with side, chest and inner pockets, for $21. I call him Bernie.

Looking at Bernie I count to five pockets, while my own women’s Harris Tweed jacket (also a find from Swedish eBay) has three. Two side pockets and one tiny and ridiculous pocket, way too small for a hand to put something in it, let alone fetch something out of it.

Meet Bernie, a generous jacket with pockets to spare and share.

The pattern seems to repeat itself – while Bernie has been equipped with generous pockets in large amounts, my own tweed jacket pockets are small and fragile. But Bernie is a generous jacket. He knows he has pockets to spare. He also knows that sharing some of his many pockets doesn’t make him less of a jacket. Quite the contrary – by sharing his pocket wealth he will contribute to making the world a better place since more people get access to pockets, people who are just as deserving of pockets as he is.*

And don’t worry, I will use every last piece of fabric from Bernie, so he still has the chance to contribute to lots of other projects.

* I didn’t come up with this myself. I borrowed it from Heather McGhee’s brilliant book The sum of us: What racism costs everyone and how we can prosper together. Read it.

Swedish or British?

So, back to my tie-on pocket project. I needed to make a decision about the model. I wanted to use one of Bernie’s pockets as an opening to my tie-on pocket. Most Swedish tie-on pockets have a horizontal opening (see my embroidered linen pocket and my påsöm pocket). I like them because it is easy to find my way into them. British tie-on pockets, on the other hand, usually have a vertical opening (see my upcycled linen pocket), keeping the shape neat and sturdy. I like that too.

A biased opning for my tweed pocket.

So what would I go for – a swift access to the pocket belly or a sturdy opening? Bernie’s side pockets were horizontal, but made for a large man’s hand. Therefore I feared a horizontal opening might be a little too wide. I could of course flip the jacket sideways and make the opening vertical. But with the tweed fabric being quite bulky in several layers with the welt pocket and the flap, a vertical opening might work against me. So I decided on a compromise – a biased opening. That would limit the wearability to one hip, but I always wear my tie-on pocket on my right hip anyway. Should I need one for my left I still have one of Bernie’s side pocket left.

Swenglish

I cut the pocket from Bernie with the template in Hamblemouse’s pocket pattern. Since Bernie’s pocket opening led to a pocket pouch sandwiched between the tweed and the jacket lining I cut an opening in the lining and sew the edges of the cut onto the edges of the welts so the opening of my tie-on pocket would actually go inside its lined belly.

The inside of the front piece (left) shows the biased pocket opening and where I made an opening in the lining. I used Bernie’s inner pocket for the inside of the back piece (right). It’s a little tilted, but it was the only way I could get the correct size and shape for the lining.

I took advantage of Bernie’s inner pocket and used it for the lining for the back of my tie-on pocket to give it a secret inner pocket. It also harboured the Harris Tweed label, which I kept there as a sweet detail.

Double layers of interfaced tweed, double layers of lining and all that doubled around the edges of the pocket opening. A sturdy tie-on pocket indeed!

Sewing the tie-on pocket together was a little bulky, but I still like the rusticity of it. This pocket will not fold in the autumn storms!

The band

I wove a band for my new tie-on pocket with stashed suspended spindle spun yarn from rya outercoat fibers. I tried to stay as close to the two colours in the herringbone tweed as I could – one brown and one light beige, from the rya flock friends Bertil and Beppelina.

Contrary to what the left image may look like, it’s a very intricate system for rewarping an unsuccessful first try. To the right is the evidence that it worked out just fine in the end.

After having warped and made the heddles for the band I realized that I had made errors in the warping. There was nothing else I could do than unravel the whole warp and start anew.

A backstrap woven band for my tweed pocket. Stashed suspendle spindle spun yarn from outercoat of rya wool.

After the rewarping the weaving was such a joy. I really love weaving little bands. They are so portable and sweet and a perfect opportunity to learn something new on a small surface.

Photo by Dan Waltin
When you find yourself in the two meter deep window alcove of a medieval fortress – weave! Dan took a sweet behind-the-scenes picture, showing my backpack and tripod setup.

Dan and I treated ourself to a weekend away a couple of weeks ago, to Varberg on the Swedish west coat. I wove on the train there, connecting the far end of the band onto the coat hanger on the back of the seat in front of me. I also wove in the medieval Varberg fortress. It felt very special to weave in atmosphere where women most certainly would have both woven bands and worn tie-on pockets.

If you are a patron (or want to become one), I treat you to a bit of our journey to Varberg in my October video postcard.

Flaunting my tweed pocket

I wore the pocket at the office this week. I hadn’t finished the tassel lanyards yet, but wearing the tie-on pocket at work gave me the perfect little crafting project for the coffee breaks.

The pocket fits very well. I equipped it with my mobile phone and a banana and they got along just fine in the belly of the pocket. The pocket works well with most fabrics and styles, like tweed tends to do.

Tweed jacket, meet tweed pocket!

I have the feeling this tie-on pocket can become an everyday favourite. The biased opening is very comfortable and I like that I can wear the flap in or out. The inner pocket isn’t ideal for my mobile phone, though. Even if the phone fits fits in the inner pocket, it’s placed too high for the phone to get into the inner pocket from the main opening. But there are other things I can hide in my secret inner pocket.

Oh, I recently bought a bikini. The bottom piece has pockets.

Happy spinning!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write posts about spinning, but also where I explain a bit more about videos I release. Sometimes I make videos that are on the blog only. Subscribe or make an rss feed to be sure not to miss any posts.
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to missanything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons is an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. Shooting and editing a 3 minute video takes about 5 hours. Writing a blog post around 3. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • You are also welcome to make one-off donations on my Ko-fi page.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the new book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
Posted on

Pretty påsöm pocket

On my recent wool journey I started three påsöm projects. Since then I have been working for many hours on the first project, a pretty påsöm pocket. None of this is my handspun.

If you have read my blog posts during the past year you may have seen my growing interest in tie-on pockets. A very old accessory – necessity – to give women the freedom of bringing things with them just like men have, only men’s clothes have been equipped with built-in pockets for specific items. A tie-on pocket can be placed hidden or visible and contain anything the wearer’s heart desires. My previous pockets were made of two kitchen towels and an evening purse.

My pretty påsöm pocket is finished! The patterns for the mittens and the bosom friend are mine and published in Spin-Off magazine.

Pattern outline

On my wool traveling club’s recent påsöm embroidery wool journey we first learned how to sketch the bouquet of påsöm flowers on the surface (broad cloth in this case), play with templates and stencils and transferring the shapes onto the sketch. When we were happy with the design we filled in both inner and outer borders with a permanent marker.

Once I’m happy with the design, I fill in all outer and inner borders with a permanent marker.

I chose a dahlia (at least I think that’s what it is) for the main attraction, flanked with roses and rose buds. All surrounded with greenery. I’m actually not a very flowery person, but the abundance of this technique and tradition appeals to me.

Bold flowers in rich colours flanked with greenery is the foundation of the påsöm embroidery tradition.

Colours

The colour palette is usually very bright, with especially reds and pinks among shades of green for the leaves. An occasional spectrum of blues or oranges can make a visit every now and then, with accent details in white and yellow.

Planning the bouquet

Just like planning a regular bouquet, you need to plan for the påsöm bouquet too. What is the centerpiece and where do the stalks go. I started with the giant dahlia and went on with the smaller flowers and the three flowers on top of the back piece of the pocket. Then I added the greenery, just according to my sketch.

Filling and blinging

Once the main pattern is in place it’s time to fill out the empty spaces with some more greenery and an occasional bud or smaller flower. The key word is abundance. I really enjoyed this part. I needed to watch every angle, see where the stalks went and fill in the gaps in a way that seemed logical in relation to the bouquet.

Once there was no more room to fill out I started the blinging process – extra sparkle to fill out the smallest spaces.

To fill out and add bling I watched the photos from the course carefully, as well as the book I had bought earlier, Påsöm, by Anna-Karin Jobs Arnberg (who was the teacher of our wool journey påsöm course). In the book as well as in the course there were lots of examples of old påsöm items to get inspiration from, as well as Anna-Karin’s new ones. From extra greenery incorporated in the flowers to bright stamens, pistils and unidentified leafy things to create depth and abundance.

Making a pocket

Once I felt finished with the filling and blinging it was time to make a pocket out of the embroidered broadcloth. I used a wild strawberry vintage cotton fabric for lining and inner pocket. A mora band (common in the traditional costume from the town of Mora) made a lovely edge of the pocket opening.

I chose an -80’s wild strawberry fabric for lining and inside pocket. To the left you can see the wrong side of the embroidery. Quite intriguing, don’t you think?

I joined the front plus lining with the back piece by hand with a backstitch, using a waxed linen thread. I like having the inner pocket for my mobile phone in the pocket. It keeps it steady and away from any accidents involving too close encounters with keys.

After I had finished the lining I steam pressed the embroidery. The result was quite astonishing, the stitches landed sweetly together in the flowers and leaves.

Close to the tradition

With the front and back neatly joined and the Mora band for the pocket opening I was getting closer to a finished pocket. But I wasn’t sure how to do the edging and the band. Anna-Karin’s påsöm pockets from Dala-Floda and the examples from the digital museum all had a buckle at the top to fasten in a belt or apron tie. The pockets were most commonly edged with velvet. I didn’t want either buckle or velvet, but I still wanted to stay within some reasonable closeness to the tradition.

Filled, blinged and pressed! The left picture shows the pocket before pressing and the right after.

I asked Anna-Karin for advice and she showed me pockets where mora bands had been sewn onto reindeer leather for the ties. She also showed me other items where reindeer leather had been used as edging and outer back piece.

I really liked the idea with soft reindeer leather for both edging, outer back piece and ties. So I ordered some reindeer leather while I finished the filling and blinging.

Reindeers and tongs

While the reindeer leather was indeed soft and flexible, it was still hard to work through with the needle. My solution was to use tongs to pull the needle through for a sweet waxed linen thread running stitch seam. Using the tongs worked very well, but it also took a lot of time to grab and let go of the tongs for every stitch. Still, in the end very much worth the effort.

I ended up sewing every stitch through the reindeer leather with the help of tongs. Tedious, but efficient. I only broke skin once and a needle once. To the right you can see a join in the reindeer leather.

It took a while to sew the 180 cm band back and forth. Edging the pocket was less complicated than I thought. The friction between the broad cloth and the suede side of the reindeer leather prevented the materials to slide from their position.

I used reindeer leather for the band and as an outer back piece and edging for my pretty påsöm pocket.

Even if the pocket is a mix between traditions from different villages in and around Dala-Floda it still looks reasonably traditional. At least in my beginner’s eyes.

Parting

As with any finished project, I felt a little sad when our journey together was over. Perhaps that is why I am such a project hoarder – I can’t seem to want to let them go. The process is such a sweet time to learn and dig deeper, to be in my hands and in the material. Even if the end product turns out beautifully and shows me a map of what I have learned, I do cherish the time I have spent together with the material, the crafting choreography and the mental process. Lucky me I have more pocket ideas in store.

A pretty påsöm pocket, ready to house sweet treasures.

Happy spinning!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write posts about spinning, but also where I explain a bit more about videos I release. Sometimes I make videos that are on the blog only. Subscribe or make an rss feed to be sure not to miss any posts.
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to missanything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons is an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. Shooting and editing a 3 minute video takes about 5 hours. Writing a blog post around 3. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • You are also welcome to make one-off donations on my Ko-fi page.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the new book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
Posted on

Mending hems

The other day I got a pair of third hand jeans. They fit me perfectly, but parts of the hems had been worn out, so I wanted to mend them. I threw out a question on Instagram and asked for advice on how to mend the hems. I got lots of really useful replies, some of which I decided to use and some of which to save for later. This post is all about mending hems.

When I was teaching at Sätergläntan craft education center this summer I met a woman who had the most beautifully visually mended pair of jeans. There were colourful embroideries all over the legs and they were just a joy to see. She had had them for 20+ years and mended them as soon as she had seen a hole, wear or tear.

One of my worn-out jeans leg hems.

With the mended pair of jeans as an inspiration I decided to take care of my own pair and mend them visibly as soon as I needed to, starting with the sad hems.

Decisions, decisions

Among the replies to my Instagram question, some were leaning towards blanket stitching around the hem, others towards embroidery and some towards a bias band. One suggested weaving straight onto the hem. I decided to embroider on a bias band on one leg and sew a tight blanket stitch on the other. The weaving I will save for later. I feared that it might get too bulky on a pant leg hem.

Blanket stitch

Both leg hems were worn, one a bit more and wider than the other. I chose the blanket stitch for the less worn leg. I have a box full of thrift shop embroidery yarn in wool, silk and linen. But for a pair of jeans I would need cotton. The only cotton yarn I had was a melange pink pearl cotton one, which was perfect for visibly mending hems.

A pink melange pearl cotton yarn blanket stitched around the hem to strengthen it with some oomph.

I think I will keep my eyes open for more melange pearl cotton for future mending emergencies, I really liked this one.

Bias tape and sashiko

I wanted to use sashiko as the main mending technique for the more worn leg. I had bought a bundle of 26 beautiful Chinese handwoven vintage cotton patches from the 1960’s from Indigoloom that I wanted to use. They are all great candidates for both a bias tape and other mending techniques. Since I wanted to make my own bias tape out of the Chinese patch – another great tip from my Instagram question – I had ordered a bias tape maker.

The loveliest bundle of cotton patches, hand woven in China in the 1960’s.

In the Ultimate Sashiko sourcebook by Susan Briscoe that I had in my book shelf I found sweet patterns based on chequered fabrics. There were a lot of those in the bundle and I chose one of them. I figured that as a beginner it would be a good idea to use a chequered fabric pattern as a guide when I did the stitches.

The world isn’t square!

As I meticulously measured the cutting angle and width of the bias tape-to-be I realized that something was wrong. Only I couldn’t figure out what. I saw that I had measured the angle and the width correctly, but still the checks didn’t add up. Measuring again and again I scratched my head until it dawned on me: There was a weaving error!

A bias tape to be from a vintage Chinese hand woven cotton fabric with, as it turned out, sweet irregularities.

I had made the mistake of counting on the squares to be square. But that’s the thing – the world isn’t square! It’s full of wonderful irregularities and differences. Therefore, so is my bias tape.

The making of a bias tape

Making the bias tape was quite entertaining. Once I had cut the fabric on the bias I eagerly waited for the bias tape maker to arrive. Once it did it took me five minutes to grab the iron and ironing board and make the tape.

The making of a bias tape. In goes a strip and out goes a tape!

The bias tape maker is just a metal guide where you stick the flat strip of bias fabric into one end and end up with a folded tape in the other. As soon as the folded end appears you just iron it and there you have it!

My very first bias tape, made from a vintage hand woven Chinese cotton fabric.

I cut the frays on the pant leg edges and stitched the tape by hand on the inside of the leg with a backstitch. I stitched the top of the tape onto the front of the leg with a whipstitch.

Sashiko pattern

I used a komezashi variation for the sashiko part, that took advantage of the chequered fabric pattern. This meant that I didn’t have to create a grid for my stitches since it was already there. I did want to continue the pattern above the tape, though, so I did my best to follow the lines from the tape onto the denim.

When mending my hems I allowed the sashiko stitches to run over the denim as well as the tape.

Since the bias tape was longer than I needed I could easily have cut out the weaving error. I chose not to, though, but instead to embrace the perfectly flawed irregularity and work with it as it was. It will serve as a tribute to the weaver who reminded me that the world isn’t square.

Two mended pant legs ready to be shamelessly flaunted!

It was interesting to use the sashiko technique for mending. I haven’t tried it just for the sake of sashiko yet, but I have plans to make little sashiko project pouches. Perhaps to keep my sashiko kit in.

Mending with love

I love my old new pair of jeans. Every time I mend them, which will be a treat and an act of love in itself, I will get that feeling that a new piece of clothing can give. A new start, a fresh breath. But with a smaller ecological footprint and hopefully with the inspiration for others to mend their own clothes with love.

A pair of mended hems.

As I plan to keep mending my jeans I also ordered a book on visible mending by Arounna Khounnoraj . It’s supposed to come next week. I’m secretly looking forward to more wear on my jeans. There is so much to explore! Thank you all who contributed to my cry for hem mending help.

Happy mending!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write posts about spinning, but also where I explain a bit more about videos I release. Sometimes I make videos that are on the blog only. Subscribe or make an rss feed to be sure not to miss any posts.
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to missanything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons is an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. Shooting and editing a 3 minute video takes about 5 hours. Writing a blog post around 3. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • You are also welcome to make one-off donations on my Ko-fi page.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the new book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
Posted on

Upcycled linen pocket

A while ago I stumbled upon a vintage handmade embroidered linen purse on Swedish eBay. I immediately fell for the fabric and the embroidery. In this post I take you through my process of turning the purse into an upcycled linen pocket.

The purse was a bit too large for my taste and I have never understood the purpose of a bag that is meant to be held in the hand. How are you supposed to be able to craft if your hands are busy holding a bag?

The eBayed vintage purse and what’s left of it.

The purse was beautifully made. The ad said hand woven and I have no reason to argue with that. The embroidery is very sweet in its simplicity and the two subtle colours. Both the front and the back of the purse were lined and all seams hand sewn.

British vs Swedish pockets

When I saw the ad I was reading the beautiful book The Pocket: A hidden history of women’s lives, by Barbara Burman and Ariane Fennetaux where all known secrets of tie-on pockets between the 17th and late 19th centuries are revealed. So naturally my mind went to a pocket when I played with ideas for the purse fabric.

If you make a search on the Swedish digital museum for kjolsäck, the Swedish word for tie-on pocket (literally meaning skirt sack) you find lots of embroidered and embellished pockets (and some plain) with a horizontal opening. In the book The Pocket, though, covering only British pockets, nearly all the samples have vertical lined openings and basically the same design throughout the the book, in both samples and artwork picturing pockets.

My first pocket was inspired by the traditional Swedish pocket design – in a rounded shape and with a horizontal opening.

I made my first pocket with more of a Swedish design with a horizontal opening. So why not make this one like the British model I had spent so much time reading about?

A pocket pattern

When I published pictures of my first pocket in social media I got a response from Anne/Hamblemouse who wants us to revolt and take tie-on pockets into the 21st century fashion. And why not – when there finally are pockets in women’s clothes they are usually too small and simple. And mobile phones usually too large and too heavy for said pockets.

Anne makes and sells tie-on pockets inspired by old patterns such as the ones in the book mentioned above. She also sells kits for making your own pocket, and patterns. I wanted to make a pocket the British style and figured a proper pattern would be perfect, so I bought Anne’s pocket pattern.

Anne’s pattern is very easy to follow and paves the way for a beautiful and sturdy pocket.

The pattern has very clear instructions with a thorough and sensible process. While the pattern is made for hand sewing nothing will stop you from machine sewing your pocket. I chose to hand sew mine. I mean, why bring out a 17 kilo sewing machine from the -60’s when you can enjoy some peace and quiet with needle, thread and some sweet hand sewing?

Anne’s pattern suggests lining the front piece. The lining peeks through the opening and strengthens it in the smartest way. My eBayed bag was lined in both front and back piece, so I used the lining for the back piece as well.

Basting!

The pocket pattern calls for basting/tacking in nearly all the seams. And what a beautiful invention basting is! I haven’t reflected much about basting before (and I used to sew a lot), but this pattern really opened my eyes for basting. It may take a little longer, but it will also give you more time with a lovely fabric in your hands. And once basted the main seam is a breeze to sew.

A woven band

I needed a band for the pocket and I wanted to weave it. I turned to Kerstin Neumüller who sells lovely linen weaving yarn for her band weaving workshops. She didn’t have the exact colours to match the embroidery on the bag, so I went with two shades of blueish grey to at least match the subtle shine from the combination of two colours on the bag.

I’m weaving a band for the pocket. Yarn from Kerstin Neumüller.

At the time I had a migraine and stayed home from work. Weaving a band on the balcony may not take the migraine away, but it did take my mind off it for a while.

The yarn was so smooth to weave with, the shed opened itself and I just lifted my heddle strings and let the weft yarn sing its way through the warp.

Round braids to finish the warp ends in a tassel-like fashion.

Since the ends of the band would be visible I chose to make them fancy – I made round braids of the warp ends for a tassel look. The braids are fiddly to make and takes a bit of time (seven minutes per braid and there were 24 of them), but it was definitely worth the effort.

Upcycled linen pocket

After having braided until my hands couldn’t move anymore I was finally finished. I basted and attached the band to the bag and wove in all ends.

An evening purse upcycked into a tie-on pocket.

I do love this pocket, it turned out even better than I had imagined. It’s sturdy, strong and does its thing. I can choose to wear it when my pockets are non-existent, too small or too weak for whatever I want to carry in them.

I’m not finished with tie-on pockets. I have ideas for at least three more in different materials, techniques and styles. And it’s just that – there is so much you can do with a small project like a pocket. You can make it in different materials, styles, with or without embellishments. You can embroider, try out new techniques or combinations or just enjoy a moment with a small sewing project. And you get to weave a band! There is room for so much more than physical objects in a pocket.

By the way – Does anybody have use for a bagless bag handle?

Happy spinning!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write posts about spinning, but also where I explain a bit more about videos I release. Sometimes I make videos that are on the blog only. Subscribe or make an rss feed to be sure not to miss any posts.
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to missanything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons is an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. Shooting and editing a 3 minute video takes about 5 hours. Writing a blog post around 3. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • You are also welcome to make one-off donations on my Ko-fi page.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the new book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.